<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Something Devastating by serafina20</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185966">Something Devastating</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20'>serafina20</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Something More Important [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gender Dysphoria, Other, genderqueer!steve, nonbinary!Steve</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:28:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185966</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers assemble to take down HYDRA, recover Loki's scepter, and recover what was stolen from Steve and Bucky.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Something More Important [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/464614</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve pulls her motorcycle to a stop in front of Stark Tower and cuts the engine. As she takes off her helmet, which she wears at Sam’s insistence (“Think of the example your setting for the kids”), Clint melts from a shadow at the side of the building. His hands are tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket, eyes focused on Steve’s face, mouth in a neutral line.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Steve says, putting her helmet on the handle of her cycle.</p>
<p>He nods in greeting. “Let’s take a walk.”</p>
<p>“Something wrong?”</p>
<p>“Naw. Just thought we should take a few moments and catch up. It’s been awhile.”</p>
<p>It’s been nearly two years. SHIELD had kept both of them so busy, they’d barely had time to stay in touch. It seemed like any time Steve had had downtime, Clint had been out of the country on a mission and vice versa. After the debacle in DC, Clint had all but vanished off the face of the planet. It was only because Natasha had been in contact with him that Steve had even known that not only Clint was okay, but that he was also not HYDRA.</p>
<p>Still, she looks uncertainly upward at the tower. “Tony…”</p>
<p>“Can wait a few minutes.”</p>
<p>Because Tony was renowned for his patience. Still, she’d rather take a few minutes to decompress before facing Tony. Her stomach’s been a tight knot since entering the city and she hasn’t been able to think about Tony without dread ever since the news had broken about her.</p>
<p>So, she falls into step beside Clint and they walk down the street.</p>
<p>“How have you been?” she asks.</p>
<p>“Can’t complain. The missions are good. The downtime is good. The whole HYDRA thing was a shitshow, but, honestly, I can’t say I’m totally surprised.”</p>
<p>She shoots him a sideways glance. “Really?”</p>
<p>He lifts a shoulder. “I’m not like Nat. I worked for SHIELD, I was loyal to them, but they weren’t my life.”  He glances at her. “How are you dealing with it?”</p>
<p>“Angry. Betrayed. And angry.” She sighed. “I don’t know what’s worse: that I sacrificed myself to save the world from HYDRA and still fell into their hands, or that I left Bucky at their mercy.”</p>
<p>Clint makes a noise in his throat. “You didn’t leave him. It wasn’t intentional.”</p>
<p>“But that’s still what happened.” Her eyes sting. “I died, and Bucky didn’t. If I hadn’t been rescued, they’d still have him. They’d be torturing him for God knows how much longer.”</p>
<p>“Okay, yes, but you did get rescued and you set him free.”</p>
<p>“But if I hadn’t….”</p>
<p>“Stop.” Clint put his hand on Steve’s shoulder and turned her to face him. “Steve, I know you want to beat yourself up for this, but you can’t change the past. You just can’t. You need to move forward. Bucky’s free of HYDRA. You’re free of them, too.”</p>
<p>She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. He was right. She knew it and Sam had been saying the same thing for weeks. She got it, she really did, but at the same time…</p>
<p>“HYDRA is still out there, though. They could still get him.”</p>
<p>Clint tilts his head.  “Which is why we’re assembling the team together, right? To stop HYDRA. Get Loki’s damn mind-reading staff back.”</p>
<p>She nodded. “And something else.” The sigh she heaves comes from her toes.</p>
<p>Clint raises his eyebrow. “Something else?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. And I don’t… I really don’t want to tell Tony, but I have to because…” She can feel panic clawing at her throat.</p>
<p>Clint’s entire body language shifts. He puts one hand on her shoulder and leans in. “You okay?”</p>
<p>She shakes her head. </p>
<p>“Does Nat know?”</p>
<p>“No. Not yet.”  She squeezes her hands into fists and closes her eyes. “HYDRA stole… Bucky remembered something Zola said, and I think… I mean, I could be wrong, but it seems likely and….”</p>
<p>“Breathe.”</p>
<p>She forces herself to inhale and feels the air rake down her chest. “My eggs,” she forces out through cold lips.</p>
<p>Clint seems to get it right away. His hand tightens on her shoulder and he lets out a punched-out breath. “Jesus. And Bucky’s sperm, I’d guess.”</p>
<p>Steve nods jerkily. </p>
<p>“Oh, Christ, Steve. I’m sorry.” He grips both Steve’s shoulders and he leans in, putting their heads together.<br/>

She leans against him, focused on her breathing. It’s only partly due to revealing the violation to a new person. The other part of it is trepidation. Of telling Tony. Of laying herself bare and open to evisceration. Of ridicule and mockery and…</p>
<p>“Hey.” Clint pulls back. “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that it’s going to be okay. But your team has you. We’ll find what was stolen from you. We’ll take them down.”</p>
<p>“What if…”</p>
<p>“That way lies madness, Steve. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t what-if yourself to death.”</p>
<p>Right. Sam said the same thing. They were both right.</p>
<p>She inhales shakily and nods. “Tony’s going to have a field day.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well. You’ve got me and Nat firmly on your side.”</p>
<p>“Thanks.” She swipes her hand over her eyes and nods. “Okay. I don’t want to delay anymore. Let’s go.”</p>
<p>“You’re the boss.” Clint smiles. “Time to beard the lion’s den.”</p>
<p>#<br/>
She and Clint walk into the main room of the penthouse side by side. It looks a lot like it did four years ago, except the Loki-shaped hole is gone. The team is gathered around the bar, Natasha on a stool next to Banner, who’s standing. Thor’s at the far end, looking curiously into his drink. And Tony is behind the bar, holding a bottle, eyes on Steve.</p>
<p>Steve swallows and forces herself not to run her hand through her hair or tug her shirt or do any of the other million nervous tics that she wants to do.</p>
<p>“Hey,” she says. Her voice sounds raw.</p>
<p>Natasha turns away from Banner and gives Steve a smile. “Hey, Rogers.” She slides off the stool and goes to Clint, giving him a hug.</p>
<p>Steve gives  a stiff nod to Natasha, but she can’t pull her gaze away from Tony.</p>
<p>Tony puts the bottle down. With almost a slow, deliberation, he comes out from around the bar and walks across the room. When he’s about a foot away Steve, he stops.</p>
<p>Her heart practically chokes her. “Hi, Tony.”</p>
<p>“Steve.” His eyes are practically swimming with unsaid words.</p>
<p>She clenches and unclenches her fists. “How have you been?”</p>
<p>“Me? Oh, great. House in Malibu blew up. Went up against the Ten Rings. But that’s nothing compared to what you’ve been up to. Taking down a Nazi organization. Turning into a woman.”</p>
<p>“Tony,” Natasha said warningly.</p>
<p>“Right, right. Free to be you and me, and all that did you sleep with my father?”</p>
<p>She almost misses the question he says it so quickly. But then Natasha is holding Clint back and it registers.</p>
<p>“Oh, for God’s sake, Tony,” she snaps. “Of course not.”</p>
<p>He throws his hands up. “It’s a perfectly legitimate question. “It certainly explains his lifelong obsession with you. I’m assuming it happened after the experiment, but I’m not totally clear on the timeline. Maybe Dad liked his girls small.”</p>
<p>“Okay, first off, I’m not a girl.”</p>
<p>“Sorry, woman.”</p>
<p>Clint breaks out of Natasha’s grasp. Steve put her arm out and blocks him.</p>
<p>“Cut it out, Tony.” Steve’s voice is sharp. “You’re an asshole, but you’re not a bigot. I’m not a woman. I’m genderqueer. You can continue to think of me as he. And I never slept with your father. He wasn’t interested in me.”</p>
<p>Tony snorts.</p>
<p>Steve rolls her eyes in response. “Or maybe he was, but he certainly never let me know. In between figuring out ways to keep my breasts bound, my Tampax from being discovered, and reminding me that I was going to be raped if I was ever caught, he never brought it up.”</p>
<p>Tony wrinkles his nose. “Your Tampax?”</p>
<p>She shrugs. “Yeah. He made them incendiary so I could get rid of them easily in the field.”</p>
<p>“Well, that sounds safe. And you stuck an incendiary device, uh, inside you?”</p>
<p>Steve closes her eyes and releases her grip on Clint so she can rub her forehead. “It was the wrappings that were incendiary, not the tampon itself. Christ.” She opens her eyes again. “Look, I know I should have told you.”</p>
<p>Natasha and Clint protest, but she waves them off. “You’re my team. And I should have trusted you. I should have trusted myself, too. I just let the confusion of waking up and figuring out what I was to take over.”</p>
<p>“Which explains the first year. But three years?”</p>
<p>She cracks a smile. “We weren’t exactly trading weekly phone calls, Tony. It was just easier to ignore the elephant.” She holds out her hand. “Truce?”</p>
<p>Tony shakes her hand. “Yeah.” He squeezes it, then lets it go. “Drink?”</p>
<p>And just like that, it’s over. Sort of.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” She follows him to the bar. “Hey, Bruce.”</p>
<p>“Steve. Good to see you.”</p>
<p>“You, too.”  She takes the drink Tony pours for her and downs it quickly. As usual, it does nothing to steady her nerves, but the act helps. “I actually have more.” Because why not get every terrible thing over with right now?</p>
<p>“More?” Thor frowns at her. “What do you mean?”</p>
<p>She nods, eyes on the empty glass. “Thor, I know you called us together to help you recover Loki’s staff. But, as long as we’re taking down HYDRA, I need us to look for something else.”</p>
<p>“Something specific?” Tony asked. He poured more Scotch into Steve’s glass.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” She sips the Scotch. Licks her lips. “You know that, after DC, my friend, Bucky came to me.” Realizing that Thor probably didn’t know, she looked at him. “Bucky was my friend growing up. He’s been prisoner of HYDRA for seventy years, brainwashed and forced to be their assassin. We went on the run together for awhile, and he started regaining his memories.” She took a deep breath. “He remembered something Pierce had said. About advances in medical technology and offspring.” She quickly swallows down the rest of the Scotch.</p>
<p>Natasha voices it first. “You think that harvested your eggs.”</p>
<p>Her eyes prick. She nods.</p>
<p>There’s a moment of silence, and then Bruce clears his throat. “Did they even have you long enough? Before you woke, I mean. It’s not as easy as inserting a needle. Before they can harvest eggs, you have to be prepared. And that takes…”</p>
<p>She looks over at him, a smile flitting over her face. “Does your knowledge of the procedure compensate for HYDRA and their medical advances? Or a super soldier? Can you be sure they didn’t give me the trigger shot and my eggs didn’t mature in the space of a few minutes? Because everything about me is accelerated. Why wouldn’t this be, too?”</p>
<p>Bruce nodded as if conceding the fact. “Wouldn’t it have been in HYDRA’s files?”</p>
<p>“We’re still decrypting some of it,” Natasha says. Her voice sounds strange, and when Steve looks at her, her eyes have a hollow, haunted look. “We’re almost done, but…”</p>
<p>“Plus, there’s over seventy years of information,” Tony says. “JARVIS? Can you look for us? Get us an answer?”</p>
<p>“Of course, sir.”</p>
<p>Tony looks at her. “We’ll find out.”</p>
<p>She nods and tries to smile. “Thanks.” </p>
<p>He pours her another glass.</p>
<p>There’s a moment of awkward silence. Then Thor says, “Where do we start?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s late. The room is dark and, this high up, the sound of traffic doesn’t reach Steve’s ears. She lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling, wishing she could sleep.</p>
<p>It’s not that she’s not comfortable. The mattress, while too soft, conforms to her body and hugs her gently. And the room is fine. Tony designed it to fit her perfectly. She likes the color and the art and the general ambiance.</p>
<p>She just can’t sleep.</p>
<p>She climbs out of bed and heads to the small kitchenette. It’s fully stocked with food and drink, so she pulls out a carton of orange juice and pours herself a glass.</p>
<p>“Captain Rogers?” </p>
<p>She closes her eyes, shoulders tense. “Yes, JARVIS?”</p>
<p>“Mr. Stark asked me to inform you first if I found anything.”</p>
<p>A silence she doesn’t want to break hangs in the air. The AI seems to be waiting for her to respond.</p>
<p>Steve lets out a breath and sets her glass down. “What did you find?”</p>
<p>“According to the records, when you were recovered from the Arctic, your eggs were harvested by HYDRA.  Approximately eight hours before you woke, they injected a hormone to accelerate the maturation of your eggs. The eggs were then harvested and taken to a lab out of country.”</p>
<p>It’s her imagination. She knows it is. But JARVIS sounds almost… sympathetic as he recites the dry facts.</p>
<p>She clears her throat. “And Bucky?” Her voice is hoarse.</p>
<p>“Testicular sperm extraction was performed on him multiple times over the years. The most recent was after you were found.”</p>
<p>“Okay.” She sniffs. “Thank you, JARVIS.”</p>
<p>“Would you like me to wake anyone?”</p>
<p>“No. I’m fine.” Except for feeling like she’s going to throw up. Or faint. Or both. “Where?”</p>
<p>“About twenty miles outside Schaffhausen, Switzerland.” </p>
<p>“Okay.” She swipes at her face. “I’m, ah… I’m going to go for a run.”</p>
<p>There is a slight pause. “It’s two-thirty AM, sir.”</p>
<p>“I like early morning runs.” She puts the carton of orange juice away and goes to her room to change.</p>
<p>The air is damp and cool against her skin. Spring in New York. She’s missed it. DC was nice. Beautiful at times. But New York is home.</p>
<p>She runs out of Manhattan to Brooklyn. Runs through the streets. It’s changed, but she can still see the alleys she fought in and the diners she and Bucky frequented. She jogs by their old apartment building, but it’s been gentrified and is unrecognizable.  She runs the length of the city but, when the sun finally rises, she still feels like her stomach is full of lead.</p>
<p>Stopping at the bridge, she puts her hands to her head. Tugs at her hair.</p>
<p>“Bucky,” she whispers. “What are we going to do?”</p>
<p>But Bucky’s gone. Gone because… Steve’s still not clear on why. On what happened. He’d been so adamant about protecting her and then… he’d just left.</p>
<p>Left her with this.</p>
<p>She scrubs at her face. </p>
<p>That’s not fair. After all Bucky’s been through, it’s not fair to put that on him. His head hadn’t been on straight. He’d only just started coming back to himself. She doesn’t know why kissing her scared him so much, but it clearly had. Between that and being tortured for seventy years, was it really that surprising that he wasn’t in a place to deal with this?</p>
<p>There are no good answers. And no Bucky, no matter how desperately she  longs for him.</p>
<p>Heart heavy, she begins the long run back to Stark Tower.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Three things save her over the next week. One, Tony has an amazing gym full of punching bags she can’t destroy. Two, the Avengers spend a lot of time planning their strategy, gathering information, and learning all they can about the HYDRA base they’re targeting. And three, the rest of the Avengers treat her like normal.</p>
<p>It’s probably the last that helps her the most. She feels like she’s walking on a tight rope, holding in her emotions because if she lets go, she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to stop feeling. There’s a heavy lump inside her stomach and her heart constantly races. Her dreams are terrible.</p>
<p>The worst is when she dreams of Bucky. Because it always starts the same. On the stairs, with him pressing her against the wall. Kissing her.</p>
<p>And then, there’s pain in her abdomen. His metal arm inside her. He pulls out a baby, screaming and bloody. Crushes the head in his fist. Drops it and disappears, leaving her with the carcass.</p>
<p>She doesn’t sleep much.</p>
<p>The Avengers help. Clint starts waking up at four-thirty to join Steve on the last few miles of her morning runs. Thor spars with her, which is more like him wiping the floor with her. But, she has gotten better since their first fight three years ago. Steve sometimes wins. Sometimes. </p>
<p>Bruce shares her love of not only big band music, but classic rock, and they spend their off time just listening.  Sometimes Natasha joins in, and Steve enjoys watching her flirt with a befuddled Bruce.</p>
<p> And Tony…</p>
<p>Well. Tony teases and pokes and ruffles her feathers. He doesn’t quite cross the line into misgendering her, but he gets close to it a couple times. And with anyone else, she’d get angry, but it doesn’t bother her when its him. Because that’s just how he is. He does the same thing with Bruce, constantly pushing him to face his otherness. Actually, he does the same thing with all of them. Teases and taunts them all. So, it doesn’t bother her.</p>
<p>And life goes on. And Steve is able to ignore the violation, ignore her fear and concentrate on the mission. Because the mission is all that matters.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They hit the base. HYDRA is taken completely by surprise. That’s not to say there isn’t a fight, but the Avengers are already well inside their gates by the time HYDRA starts firing.</p>
<p>It takes a couple hours, but they finally subdue HYDRA.</p>
<p>Steve, Natasha and Clint secure prisoners while Tony and Thor explore. Bruce hasn’t de-Hulked yet--a problem they’re going to need to figure out how to fix soon--and is still gleefully ripping apart HYDRA’s defenses.</p>
<p>Steve is securing the last prisoner when her com crackles. </p>
<p>“Um, Steve?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, Tony?” Her stomach drops at his tone.</p>
<p>“Come down to the lab. Soon as you can.”</p>
<p>She nods, then forces herself to respond with, “Copy.” She finishes tightening the zip ties and stands up.</p>
<p>Natasha stands up and pushes hair from her face. “You okay, Steve? You’ve gone ashen.”</p>
<p>With shaking hands, she reaches into her belt and pulls out a protein bar. “Just need to refuel. You got this? Tony, um…”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Natasha quirks her lips. “Open coms.”</p>
<p>Right.  </p>
<p>Steve bites into the protein bar. Her mouth is dry, and it crumbles and sticks in her mouth. She forces herself to swallow and almost chokes. “I’m going to go.”</p>
<p>“Need company?” Clint asks.</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine.” She turns and heads toward the lab.</p>
<p>Tony is out of his suit, which is standing in sentry mode behind him. He leans over a computer and tugs his hair in both fists.</p>
<p>Something is very wrong.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Steve asks. She wishes she hadn’t eaten that protein bar. It sits like a lump in her stomach.</p>
<p>Tony turns and drops his hands. “It’s not that bad.” His voice cracks when he says it, and he winces.</p>
<p>There’s a sour taste in the back of her throat. “Tony, what?”</p>
<p>Tony exhales hard. “Um, JARVIS was right, and this is the facility that has your and Bucky’s, uh, specimens. Only… HYDRA already combined them. And then froze the results.”</p>
<p>She frowns. “What?” Tony isn’t even speaking technical jargon. She understands all the words. She just can’t process them.</p>
<p>“I mean, what we have here are embryos, not eggs.”</p>
<p>Her head whirls. “Babies?”</p>
<p>“Not yet. Not close. But the eggs have been fertilized.”</p>
<p>“What?” She can’t breathe. She can’t get any air in. She can’t… “I don’t… How many, I don’t…”</p>
<p>“Steve, you need to breathe.” Tony comes over and tries to take her arm.</p>
<p>She yanks it away. “How many?”</p>
<p>“There’s fifteen. But that doesn’t mean…  Steve?  Steve!”<br/>#<br/>Steve blinks, not sure what’s going on. Her head is pillowed on something and she’s freezing. And soaking wet with sweat. She can’t stop shivering and her eyes feel gummy.  She blinks them a few times and Natasha’s face swims into view.</p>
<p>Natasha smiles. “Hey, Rogers. Back with us?”</p>
<p>“What…”</p>
<p>“Just lay there for a minute. Breathe.”</p>
<p>She swallows. Her throat feels like it’s cracking. “I need water.”</p>
<p>Clint appears with a canteen. He presses it into Steve’s hands. Natasha helps her sit up.</p>
<p>The water is cool. It slides down her throat, hits her stomach. She blinks. Her head pounds. She can’t remember having this bad a headache in years. Not since the serum. Not since she and Bucky shared a tiny apartment in Brooklyn, sharing a bed. </p>
<p>He used to take care of her when she felt like this. Cold and feverish and headachy. He’d give her headache powders and teas. Rub her back or neck. Read to her and get her washcloths to cover her eyes and…</p>
<p>Oh God.</p>
<p>She forces herself to sit up.  Rubs her eyes. “What does this mean?”</p>
<p>Natasha sits back on her heels. “Nothing it didn’t already. It doesn’t change…”</p>
<p>“It does.” Her voice cracks. “When they were just eggs and sperm, that was one thing. But this is…” She swallows hard, feeling her stomach want to heave. “This is so much more.”</p>
<p>Natasha nods. “Okay, yeah. They’re closer to being something. But that doesn’t make them anything more than frozen specimens. They’re not implanted. Even if they were, that doesn’t mean they’d all make it. Steve, you don’t have to decide anything.” She puts her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “This is not something urgent. You don’t even have to think about it until you find Bucky and can discuss it with him. Come up with a plan together.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Tony sounds hollow. Shocked. But he clears his throat and says, “I can keep them in my lab. As long as you want. You won’t have to worry about it.”</p>
<p>Her head still spins. Tears gather in the corner of her eyes, but she can’t let them fall. “I need air.”</p>
<p>Clint and Natasha help her up. She stumbles away from them. Somehow, she finds her way through the base and outside.</p>
<p>The air hits her like a slap. It’s warm. She shivers as the clammy sweat on her face slowly dries. The light pierces her eyes, and she rubs them, trying to chase away her headache. She feels as if she’d been drunk, another sensation she hasn’t felt in years. Not since before…</p>
<p>She swallows against the lump in her throat.</p>
<p>“Captain.” Thor comes beside her. “Are you well?”</p>
<p>Steve’s jaw trembles as she tries to smile. She can’t even fake it. </p>
<p>“Ah.” Thor claps her on the shoulder. “I am sorry, my friend. I know you had hoped for better news. I am sorry for what was stolen from you.”</p>
<p>She tries to say something, but the words are stuck. She nods instead.</p>
<p>“At least it’s recovered?” Thor says tentatively.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Her voice is hoarse. “Um, look. I’m heading back to the jet. Just…”</p>
<p>“We will take care of things.” He squeezes her shoulder, then leaves.</p>
<p>Steve closes her eyes and takes a shuddering breath. If only she knew where Bucky was. If only she knew what he’d want.</p>
<p>If only she knew what to do.</p>
<p>#</p>
<p>When they get back to the tower, Steve heads directly to her suite. She strips and showers as quickly as she can. Puts her binder on, even though she generally doesn’t wear it when she’s alone, crawls into bed and curls into a ball.</p>
<p>She feels so sick. She can’t even pinpoint a specific part of her that hurts, besides her pounding head. It’s not her stomach or her neck or throat. It’s her whole body. Her skin feels wrong. Her body feels wrong. Just lying in her bed, feeling her toes and her fingers, her breasts and hips and privates, it’s all wrong.</p>
<p>She wishes she were a doll. Smooth and genderless between her legs. In her abdomen. All the parts that make her vulnerable to the world’s disdain, the science… gone.</p>
<p>Please, make me plastic, she finds herself thinking. </p>
<p>Steve laughs and is surprised to taste salt in her mouth. She hadn’t realized she was crying.</p>
<p>She lays in bed, trying to scrub the feeling of wrongness from her body. She stays until the shadows grow long and finally disappear into a quiet gloom. She stays until her stomach starts growling and her blood turns to fizz from hunger.</p>
<p>It’s pitch dark in her room when she hears a soft knock on her door.</p>
<p>Steve squeezes her eyes shut. Hopes whoever it is will go away.</p>
<p>The door opens and closes. Quiet steps on the floor. The bed dips.</p>
<p>“Natasha called. Told me what you found.”</p>
<p>Sam.</p>
<p>Steve uncurls from her tight ball and rolls toward him.</p>
<p>Sam sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at her. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>She sniffs. “I think something is wrong with me.” Her voice is hoarse and creaky.</p>
<p>“How so?”</p>
<p>Steve tries to find a way to put her feelings into words. Digs her fingernails into her arms. “My skin is wrong.”</p>
<p>Sam raises his eyebrows. “Your skin is wrong? Or your body is wrong?”</p>
<p>Please, make me plastic.</p>
<p>She nods.</p>
<p>“Ever felt like this before?”</p>
<p>She starts to shake her head but hesitates. Remembers. “When I was a kid. This lady said I’d be lucky to grow up to a woman. I felt wrong then. I didn’t want to be a woman.” Everything shatters around her. She begins to sob. “I don’t want to be a woman.” </p>
<p>Sam puts his hand on her shoulder. Steve cries and cries as if the act of crying will cleanse the feeling of wrongness from her. She cries until her eyes hurt and she can’t breathe. She cries until her throat aches and her stomach feels like the Hulk’s been using it as a punching bag. And, when she runs out of tears, she keeps gasping, face and bedsheets soaked with tears and snot.</p>
<p>She has no idea how long she cries. It feels like hours. When her shoulders stop shaking and her sobs turn to sniffles, Sam gets up and disappears. He returns moments later with a box of tissues.</p>
<p>“Try sitting up?” he suggests.</p>
<p>Her body feels like it’s gone ten rounds. She forces herself into a sitting position. The world spins and the hundred-pound stone in her head shifts. Steve winces. </p>
<p>Sam hands her a tissue.</p>
<p>The paper scrapes against her tender skin. Her nose is so clogged, she can’t even blow it. Can just dab at it as it leaks.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong with me?” </p>
<p>“Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with you.”</p>
<p>“Doesn’t feel like it.”</p>
<p>Sam moves so his shoulder is pressed against Steve’s. “I’ve heard of this. May have looked up some things after you came out to me. It’s called gender dysphoria.”</p>
<p>Steve sniffs, and wishes she hadn’t when it just reminds her that her nose is clogged. “Read about that. Didn’t think I had it.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you haven’t, except when you were a kid.  You’re not confronted with reminders of your biological sex very often. But this is a pretty big reminder. Makes sense that you’re having trouble with it.”</p>
<p>She tries to blow her nose again. It just makes the pain in her head worse. “I just don’t know what to do.”</p>
<p>“What to do about what?”</p>
<p>Anything. Everything. God, it’s all so big. Too big. She doesn’t even know where to start. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell Bucky.” Because that’s easier. Worrying about him and his reaction. Easier than the unwanted feeling on her chest and in her abdomen. The way she can practically feel her uterus throbbing as a reminder that it’s there.</p>
<p>Not even getting her period makes her feel like this. That’s just a fact of nature. Its regularity is a side effect of the serum. Back in the forties, before the war, she’d never known any other women, never discussed menstruating with them. Only her mother. So, she never associated it with being a woman. And, after the serum, when she got regular, well. She was at war. A little too busy to think about it.</p>
<p>Now, though. It’s everywhere. Pink and purples and women and womanhood. Mostly, she’s able to ignore it. Brand loyalty kept her with Tampax, and their packaging is blue. After people started recognizing her on the street, she bought her supplies online and then, it didn’t matter. It was just something that happened, unconnected to her biological sex.</p>
<p>But her uterus suddenly feels like a hot coal inside of her. She wants to rip it out, burn it. </p>
<p> “Steve, you’re getting ahead of yourself.” Sam shakes his head. “Don’t worry about what you’re going to tell Bucky. Worry about finding him first. One step at a time.” He looks at her out of the corner of his eyes. “And honestly? At this moment, I’m not sure he’s who you should be worried about. I mean, I’m not telling you what to focus on. Just suggesting that maybe you want to focus on yourself.”</p>
<p>A knife pain drives through the center of her forehead. Steve presses the heel of her hand against it. “I think about it, I’ll keep feeling like this. I don’t want to feel like this.”</p>
<p>“Ignoring it won’t make it go away. Maybe you should talk to someone.”</p>
<p>She sniffs. “I’m talking to you.”</p>
<p>Sam shakes his head. “I’m not a therapist. I don’t know the right things to say, Steve. If I could, I would help you, but the fact is, I’m not trained. And this is a big deal.”</p>
<p>Tears spill from her eyes. “My last therapist worked for SHIELD.”</p>
<p>“Were they HYDRA?”</p>
<p>Steve shrugs. “JARVIS?  Was Dr. Gliden from SHIELD a HYDRA agent?”</p>
<p>There is a brief pause, then JARVIS answers, “No. According to the files, he was not affiliated with them.”</p>
<p>“But I don’t particularly want to see him again.” She wipes her eyes. </p>
<p>Sam nods. “There are therapists who specialize in trans issues. Issues like you’re going through.”</p>
<p>“Not exactly.”</p>
<p>“No. Not exactly. But the gender dysphoria. Someone might be able to help with that.”</p>
<p>This time, when she blows her nose, she’s able to clear some of the blockage. She goes through about five tissues before she can finally breathe, even though her nose is still swollen and tender. “Do you know anyone?”</p>
<p>“Personally, no. But I bet JARVIS…”</p>
<p>“I have narrowed the search to three I think you might find acceptable, Captain,” JARVIS says. “I’ve downloaded the information to your Stark tablet. As soon as you make your choice, I will book the appointment.”</p>
<p>Steve smiles wryly. “Thanks, JARVIS.”  She wipes her eyes and turns her head to look at Sam. “Sorry you had to come out here.”</p>
<p>Sam shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m always ready to stand by your side.” He bumps his shoulder against Steve’s. “Feel like you can eat?”</p>
<p>“Got any horses?”</p>
<p>“JARVIS? We need pizza. And lots of it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It takes Steve a couple days to choose her therapist. It’s part dragging her feet, part having a few strong waves of dysphoria that knocks her off her axis, and part that she just doesn’t see how therapy is really going to help. But Sam keeps after her and even JARVIS checks in a few times, and, finally, Steve chooses Dr. Bailey Brookes, who has an office down the street from Stark Tower and agrees to fit Steve in the next day.</p>
<p>Steve sleeps uneasily that night. She dreams of Bucky most of the night. Of them back in their old apartment. Sleeping on the roof in the summer when it was too hot. Snuggled in bed together during the winter. </p>
<p>She dreams of them back at the cabin. Her painting while he played Solitaire. </p>
<p>And the nightmares. Bucky ripping infants from Steve’s womb. Crushing them, leaving mangled corpse behind while Steve bleeds out.</p>
<p>She wakes with a phantom headache behind her eyes and a heavy pit in her stomach. She forces breakfast down before she heads off to her appointment.</p>
<p>Dr. Brookes is punctual. At eleven on the dot, the door opens, and she appears.</p>
<p>“Captain? Come on in.”</p>
<p>Steve stands and sets the magazine she’d been leafing through aside. She crosses the waiting room and enters the office.</p>
<p>“Have a seat.” Dr. Brookes motions to a couch and sits down in a comfortable-looking, overstuffed chair across from it. She leans her elbow on the arm of the chair and cradles her chin in the palm of her hand.</p>
<p>Steve laces her fingers together and squeezes.</p>
<p>Dr. Brookes is a short, dark-skinned woman. Her hair is buzzed close to her head. Her ears are full of hoops. She wears a pair of trousers cuffed at the ankles, a button up shirt, and a pair of suspenders. </p>
<p>“What should I call you?” Dr. Brookes asks.</p>
<p>“Steve is fine.”</p>
<p>Dr. Brookes smiles. “Thank you. So. What brings you here today, Steve?”</p>
<p>She looks down at her hands. “Um. You know who I am?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>Steve nods and squeezes her hands together. “So, ah. I’ve always been fine with…” She frowns, trying to figure out how to frame it. “With what I am. Genderqueer. I’ve only recently had the words, but it’s always just been who I am. I was born a woman. I live as a man. I’m not really either. And it’s been fine.”</p>
<p>“I take it that’s changed?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” She licks her lips. “I, um. I just found out that HYDRA…” She looks up to see if Dr. Brookes knows what she’s talking about.</p>
<p>She nods.</p>
<p>“Um, they stole… harvested? Took? Whatever. They took my eggs. And my best friend’s sperm. And I thought that was it.” She shakes her head. Her throat feels like it’s closing. “But they.” She takes a deep breath. “They already combined them.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Steve, that must feel terrible. And been a shock.”</p>
<p>She nods. “And now, I feel wrong. In my body.”</p>
<p>Dr. Brookes nods. “I can see how it would hurt. And you’ve never felt dysphoric in your body before?”</p>
<p>“Not really. When I was a child I had it a little. Until my mom let me dress up like a boy.” She frowns. “Be a boy.”</p>
<p>“Did she let you be a boy, or did she let you be yourself?” </p>
<p>Steve thinks about it a moment. “I don’t know. When I was a kid, after I cut my hair and dressed like a boy, I thought of myself as a boy. I mean, I’ve always thought of myself as ‘she’, but that’s because I thought anything else was lying. But when I got older, after Bucky and I left the orphanage and we were living on our own, I started thinking… I don’t know. Maybe I’m not a boy. But I’m not female. I didn’t know how to think of myself, but I…” She sighs and rubs at her forehead.</p>
<p>“So, it wasn’t until you woke up that you knew what to call yourself.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. It just fits. Nonbinary. Genderqueer. Not either or.” She frowns. “But I’d still rather hear myself referred to as he. Only Bucky…” Her voice catches, but she pushes on. “Only Bucky can call me she.”</p>
<p>“Bucky was your best friend?”</p>
<p>She gives a dry laugh. “He’s still alive. He’s the Winter Soldier, who tried to kill me during the thing in DC.” She looks up.</p>
<p>Dr. Brookes looks a little wide-eyed. “Oh.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s… It’s hard to explain. He was brainwashed and mind controlled, but he’s better now. Only, he’s disappeared, and I don’t know where he is.”</p>
<p>“So, he doesn’t know about the embryos.”</p>
<p>She shakes her head. “And I’ve been having dreams that… that one’s implanted in me and Bucky rips it out. And then he crushes it.”</p>
<p>Dr. Brookes tilts her head. “Is that something he’s likely to do?”</p>
<p>“No.” She shakes her head vehemently. “No, he’d never.” She drops her voice and says softly, “And if he was still being controlled by HYDRA, he’d probably be under orders to protect me.” Steve crosses her arms over her abdomen and presses against it. “I’m really… I hate thinking about being, uh… implanted.”</p>
<p>“It triggers your dysphoria.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Have you thought about having surgery? You could have a hysterectomy.”</p>
<p>She shakes her head. “No. With the serum, I can’t change anything.”</p>
<p>Dr. Brookes nods and sighs. “That’s got to be hard.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know. I don’t usually mind my body. It’s just… my body. A vessel.” She rubs her hands down her thighs. “It’s just right now, I feel…” Her words fail her.</p>
<p>“Vulnerable?” Dr. Brookes suggests.</p>
<p>Steve nods.</p>
<p>“That makes perfect sense. You’ve been through a huge violation and something akin to sexual assault.”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Dr. Brookes shrugs. “Okay. But someone did take advantage your biological sex while you were vulnerable. It may not have been rape or a physical attack, but I’d argue it was an assault. And that’s one reason you’re having such a hard time dealing with this.”</p>
<p>Steve clenches her fists. “It’s not like I’ve never lost a fight before.”</p>
<p>“But have you had anything stolen from you? Steve, the past year must have been very hard on you. Your biological sex was exposed to the world. It’s not like you were forced out of the closet to a few friends. People are cruel in what they say. It’s disgusting. And now, you’re dealing with this. A blatant reminder of your sex.”</p>
<p>Steve swallows. Her stomach is churning, and she feels ill. “I… I don’t want to feel this way.”</p>
<p>“You won’t feel this way forever. We’ll work through it.” She scoots to the edge of her chair and puts her hand on the coffee table between them. “Let’s talk about some grounding techniques and exercises to cope with the nightmares.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Steve takes a deep breath and forces her shoulders to relax. “That sounds good.”</p>
<p>#</p>
<p>When Steve gets back to the Tower, Tony is in the main living space, tinkering with something at the coffee table. He looks up when she steps out of the elevator.</p>
<p>Tony freezes a moment, then puts down whatever he was working on. He clears his throat. “I just finished upgrading the Iron Legion. Want to have a go?”</p>
<p>Her shoulders relax. “I don’t know. Sure you’re up to having your robots broken?”</p>
<p>“Hey.” Tony stands. “They are more than just robots. They are a protective force designed to--”</p>
<p>“Yeah? Well, I call them spare parts.” She grins. “I’ll be in the training room in twenty minutes.”</p>
<p>“Prepare to have your ass kicked.”</p>
<p>Steve turns toward her room as she says, “Bring a big box for all the pieces!”</p>
<p>#</p>
<p>It takes two hours, but Steve finally manages to tear the last robot to pieces. It feels great. Heart pounding, sweat pouring down her face. Yeah, she’s scraped and bruised and burnt, but for the first time since taking down the HYDRA base, her body fits. </p>
<p>“Okay, you cheated,” Tony says, emerging from the control room. He’s got a Stark Tablet in hand and he’s shaking his head</p>
<p>Steve swipes sweat away from her forehead. “Did not. If anything, you did. If you’re Iron Man in the field, you can’t take control of any of the Legion. It’d split your attention. But, a few times, that was definitely you I was fighting.”</p>
<p>“Do you know how hard it is to use remote control on an android and fight? I should get a medal for that.” Tony looks smug. “Not only did I maneuver it, but you recognized my fighting style.”</p>
<p>“You call that style?”</p>
<p>“Ouch, Rogers.”  Tony pats his chest. “Right through the heart.”</p>
<p>Steve laughs and rubs sweat from her eyes. Then she winces. “I think I cracked a rib again.”  She rubs her side. “Those things pack a punch.”</p>
<p>“They should.” Tony looks forlornly at the parts scattered around the room. “Although, honestly, I mostly want them to protect civilians. They won’t, as a rule, be fighting so much as protecting.” He looks back at Steve. “And you destroyed them.”</p>
<p>“It’ll take you, what? One night to recreate them?”</p>
<p>“Less than.” He shrugs. “It’s all automated. Just have to push a button.”</p>
<p>“That’s good.” She presses her hand against her side. An easy silence falls. She works on catching her breath while Tony fiddles with his tablet. </p>
<p>She swallows. “Where did you put them?” She knows she should be more specific, but she can’t bring herself to be. But a quick glance at Tony’s face lets her know he understands.</p>
<p>Tony swipes his fingers over the tablet. Bites his lip. Finally, he says, “They’re in a vapor phase liquid nitrogen tank. Not here. I’ve got a little place upstate. It’s a little more technologically advanced than the tower.”</p>
<p>“More than the tower?”</p>
<p>His smile is like a shark’s. “This place is ancient compared.”</p>
<p>She nods like she understands how on earth Stark Tower can be ancient. “So, uh. How long do they last? I mean, am I on a time limit to decide, or…”</p>
<p>“No.” Tony shakes his head. “No time limit.” Then he grimaces. “Theoretically. The longest any have been frozen is thirty years, but theoretically…”</p>
<p>“Okay.” She sets her shield on the ground.</p>
<p>Tony lets the silence hang a moment. “Can I ask you something?”</p>
<p>Steve thinks before she gives a cautious nod.</p>
<p>“You ever think about having kids?”</p>
<p>“No.” At Tony’s look, she shrugs. “It never crossed my mind, ever, growing up. Never thought about kids. Never thought about being a…” The word dies on her tongue. Who knows what the right word is anyway?</p>
<p>Tony nods. “I’ve thought about it. I’d be a terrible father. Didn’t have the best example growing up. I know you loved him, but--”</p>
<p>“Tony…”</p>
<p>“Oh, right. He loved you, not the other way around.” He gives Steve a side-eye. “Incendiary tampons. What on earth was he thinking?”</p>
<p>The laugh that escapes her startles her. </p>
<p>Tony beams. “Anyway. I’d be insanely terrible. Total disaster.” He looks around the training room and shakes his head. “Kind of like this room. JARVIS! Let’s get some clean up.”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
<p>Tony claps Steve on the back. “All right, soldier. Hit the showers. I’m ordering Indian for dinner.”</p>
<p>“Okay.” She starts to leave, then stops and looks back at him. “Thanks, Tony.”</p>
<p>He waves his hand, not looking up from his tablet.</p>
<p>Steve smiles and heads back to her room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Late that night, Steve sits by the window with her sketchbook on her knees. If there’s a flaw in Tony’s building design—and, honestly, Steve still hates it—it’s that there are no fire escapes to sit on. Yeah, there are balconies, but none attached to her room and she doesn’t feel like she can sit in her underwear on a balcony anyone else can walk out onto.</p>
<p>She has to content herself with opening a window and sitting next to it.</p>
<p>Despite the grounding exercises that she and Dr. Brookes had done, Steve wears her binder under her tank top. She still feels uncomfortable with her body and hyper aware of parts she’d never thought of before. As much as she wishes one session would have given her a magic pill to make it all go away, life doesn’t work like that.</p>
<p>Feet propped on the window ledge, Steve taps her pencil against her sketchbook. Dr. Brookes had suggested Steve try taking control of her nightmares by drawing them. Drawing as she saw them, and then drawing what she wishes would happen.</p>
<p>But she’s hesitant. Bad enough she sees the dreams in full Technicolor every night. Thinking about drawing them makes her heart squeeze. As to what she wants…</p>
<p>She doesn’t want to draw them cradling the baby between them or whatever idealized version of the dream there is. She doesn’t want to have children.</p>
<p>What if Bucky does?</p>
<p>She pushes the thought away. <i>Focus on the immediate problem, Rogers.</i></p>
<p>So. Nightmares.</p>
<p>Steve’s pencil dances across the page. Even though she initially tries to draw her nightmare, what she ends up drawing is herself. And idealized version. No breasts. No hips. No genitals. Just muscles and smoothness. Strong. Powerful. Sexless.</p>
<p>Perfect. </p>
<p>She stares at the picture for a long time. She doesn’t know how she feels. Longing for that to be her body. Sadness that it’s not. Frustration that the body that’s served her so well for all these years is suddenly a problem. </p>
<p>And it is a good body. Yes, before the serum it’d been a terrible body, but since then…</p>
<p>Even when Howard had pointed out she’d be raped if discovered…</p>
<p>Even when the Red Skull crowed about the powerful children they’d have…</p>
<p>Even when Bucky had stared at her breasts…</p>
<p>She clenches her fist and squeezes her eyes shut. A wave of wrongness washes over her.</p>
<p>
  <i>Inhale one… two… three… four</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Hold one… two… three… four</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Exhale one… two… three… four</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Hold one… two… three… four</i>
</p>
<p>Steve box breathes for a few minutes, until the wrongness melts away and she feels grounded in her body.</p>
<p>Her damn body.</p>
<p>A flash of anger goes through her and she wishes that she hadn’t destroyed all Tony’s robots. </p>
<p>For the hundredth millionth time, she wishes Bucky was here. Bucky, who always made her feel more at home in her body. Who could soothe her with a touch and make her feel better. No matter what size her body or how sickly, he’d been able to work magic.</p>
<p>But Bucky had run and left her alone.</p>
<p>Fifteen embryos. Fifteen decisions to make.</p>
<p>Focus.</p>
<p>She starts breathing again.</p>
<p>Nothing matters if she can’t find Bucky. She doesn’t have to make any decision until she finds Bucky. She doesn’t have to think about it until she finds Bucky.</p>
<p>Only problem is, first, she has to find Bucky.</p>
<p>The End</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>